


These Things Happen

by PinkPandorafrog



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 18:09:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6668962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkPandorafrog/pseuds/PinkPandorafrog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint referred Darcy to meet someone over in Hell's Kitchen named Matt. Matt's not there, but she ends up meeting his partner instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	These Things Happen

Darcy walked up the narrow staircase. This had to be the right place. Right? The plaque on the brick wall outside said so, anyway. The door at the top of the stairs had a frosted window, and she could see a fuzzy person-shape moving around inside. That was a good sign.

There was redhead just sitting at the desk who looked up at her and smiled. “Can I help you?” Karen. That had to be Karen.

“Yeah.” Darcy nodded, giving her very best professional smile in return. “I'm here to see Matt?”

Karen's smile faltered a little, and she shook her head. “He's not in right now. Are you a client?”

Darcy sighed. Apparently Karen didn't know that Matt moonlighted as a crime-fighting badass, and it definitely wasn't her place to spill the beans. “Kinda.” Mostly not.

“You can see Mr. Nelson.” The other woman looked a little bit hopeful.

“Uh, yeah. I guess... yeah.” Darcy nodded. “Sure.”

Karen got up from her desk and went to knock on one of the office doors. She opened it after just a second. “There's a client of Matt's here, a Ms...” She trailed off and looked back at Darcy.

“I'm just Darcy.” Everyone called her Darcy. Even Coulson. Not that he was still alive or anything. Of course not.

Karen turned back to the door. “Darcy. Do you have a minute?”

“Yeah.” Mr. Nelson sounded tired.

Karen stepped back out of the way and ushered Darcy into the office. “Did you want any water, or coffee, or anything?”

“No thanks.” Darcy slipped past her into the office.

The man inside was getting up from behind his own desk as she entered, and came towards her with his hand outstretched. “Nice to meet you, Darcy.”

Darcy waited until the door closed, and glanced behind her to make sure. She took his hand and shook it, making a face. “I'm sorry, I'm not really a client. I'm here to see Matt. I, uh...” She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to remember what Clint had said. She was pretty sure she remembered him saying that Matt's partner knew, and since Matt only had the one partner, it was a pretty safe assumption that it was Mr. Nelson here. “You know, right?”

His eyes narrowed a little bit. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you _know_ about Matt, right? Like, his hobbies, his extracurricular activities, his, uh... Nocturnal habits.” Okay, that was a little risky if Mr. Nelson didn't know. Maybe she was talking about ballroom dancing. Sure, that could be a thing.

“What do you know about Matt?” Okay, from his tone he was pretty sure he knew, but maybe he thought she _was_ talking about ballroom dancing.

“He... Puts on a mask and...” Darcy glanced over her shoulder again. She was purposely keeping her voice low, the building didn't exactly look like it had the best of insulation.

He seemed to relax at that, he actually looked a little bit relieved. “Yeah. I know all about that.” And a little bit exasperated. Yeah, Darcy knew the feeling. “Why don't you have a seat?” He gestured to the chair on this side of the desk.

She sat down. It wasn't the most comfortable piece of office furniture, but it seemed to hold up her ass just fine.

He regained his own seat, and then his eyes narrowed again as he studied her. “Wait. How do _you_ know about Matt?”

“I'm Darcy Lewis. I go between all of the, uh...” She made a face again. “Enhanced, I guess? Enhanced people around New York. I'm the superhero liaison. Basically I make sure everyone's sort of updated in a general sense on what everyone else is doing and set up and sort of referee meetings.” Her eyes widened, and she shook her head. “So many meetings. A friend of mine referred me, and I'm just here to meet Matt today, actually. Introduce myself, all that.”

“Yeah. He's...” He glanced towards the door. “Working today. What was it you called it? Nocturnal habits?”

Darcy made a face again. “Fucking figures. I'd probably have better luck hanging out on the roof of his building.”

He smiled at that. “You really might.” He glanced towards the door again. “Tell you what. I can get him to a bar named Josie's tonight after work. Say about 8:00? It's a real dive, but... He'll be there.”

She nodded. “Josie's. I can do that. I will see you tonight.” She pushed back the chair and got to her feet, giving him a smile. “Thanks, Mr. Nelson.”

He got up as well. “Call me Foggy.” 

* * *

 

Foggy had been right, Josie's was a dive. Shithole seemed a more appropriate term. But she'd been in worse places. Luke's place had been just about this bad, but it had the benefit of Luke being there. Then again, Foggy seemed like a pretty nice guy.

And he was already there at the bar in the same gray suit he'd been wearing at work earlier. No sign of Matt, it wasn't like that was exactly a surprise.

The floor was sticky as she walked over to the bar, and she sat down on the stool next to him. “Hey.”

The look he gave her was one of pure apology. “He said he'd be here.”

She shrugged. “It's fine. He's keeping your part of the world from turning more directly into my part of the world, right?”

“Yeah.” Foggy sounded a little bit exasperated.

“Believe me.” She rested her hand against his upper arm for a second. “I know exactly how this goes. Like, _exactly_ how this goes.”

He smiled and seemed to relax at that. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Darcy took a look around the room. “I'm probably better off sticking with something bottled, right?”

The smiled widened. “Definitely.”

By the time Darcy had finished her bottle of beer, sipped slowly, too, she'd learned that Foggy had gone to Columbia, how he liked his pizza, and that his real name was actually Franklin. There was still no sign of Matt, though. She sighed and glanced around for what seemed like the hundredth time. It probably was.

“I'm so sorry,” Foggy said.

“It's not your fault. That's just the way it happens sometimes.” And camping out on top of his building was starting to sound like a super good idea. Clint would probably know the best way up there, she could ask him.

“Oh, he'll hear about it. It's not okay to keep a beautiful woman waiting like that. I mean...” He actually blushed. “A woman. A colleague. A...” He shook his head. “You know, I've gotta be honest. When you first walked into my office asking for him by _Matt_ , I figured he'd gotten himself into some trouble again. He seems to attract the pretty ones, but only if they mean trouble.”

Darcy grinned. “Not happening. I know someone a lot like Matt, and it's just not...” She shook her head. “No. Clint's awesome, but that's a lot. Like, a _lot_. I prefer guys that are a little more stable.”

He sat up a little straighter and finished his own beer. “Do you want me to walk you home? It can get kinda rough out here at night.”

“Hmm.” She slid down from her stool. “Maybe you could give me a bit of a tour? If I'm going to be here more often, I should probably know a little bit about down here.”

“Oh yeah. I'll show you all the best 24-hour pawn shops.” He got to his feet as well, picking up his jacket from where it was slung across the seat beside him. They made their way back across the sticky cement floor together, and out into the night.

It was a little bit chilly out of the heat of the bar, and Darcy couldn't suppress the shiver that ran down her spine. Beside her, Foggy unfolded his jacket and draped it across her shoulders. His fingers lingered a little as he tucked it around her upper arms. “Milady?” He offered her an elbow.

Grinning, Darcy tucked her hand into the offered elbow. “Lead on. Where's the first pawn shop?”

 


End file.
